


There's nothing wrong with you (its true)

by zukosbaldponytail (keithsfangs)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Child Abuse, Explicit trans ftm rep, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalised Transphobia, Iroh is supportive, M/M, Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Trans Bato (mentioned), Trans Male Character, Trans Sokka (Avatar), Trans Zuko (Avatar), Transphobia, Unsupportive family, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithsfangs/pseuds/zukosbaldponytail
Summary: Acceptance from his father was crawling beneath his skin, because he knew that it wasn't real. But Zuko so desperately wanted his father to accept him that he turned a blind eye to the way Ozai used it to manipulate him. He turned a blind eye to the way his name was a privilege he got when he did good, a privilege he got revoked when he was less than perfect. It wasn't the acceptance that his uncle gave him so unconditionally.Zuko's journey to acceptance
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 137





	There's nothing wrong with you (its true)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to [ The Village (Wrabel)](https://open.spotify.com/track/6epvwUINain4iSHCTWA0sj?si=gTyOzRzZQYaslo_F-aVNJw) on repeat 
> 
> This is angsty, so please go into this with caution, as it may spike dysphoria or trigger feelings of not being accepted at first. This is like a cathartic piece for me. I also wrote it super fast so apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors you may encounter

Hot tears fell as Zuko finally collapsed onto his knees in his room. Why did he trust his family again? Why did he trust them to accept him? He hugged himself tighter, trying to take deep, slow breaths every time a sob threatened to escape. Sometimes his room felt like the only place he could crawl to hide, but it was too big, too empty, too exposed- and either way, it wasn't the safe space it was supposed to be. 

He took deep breaths, trying to stop the tears before he was caught crying, the tips of his hair tickling the nape of his neck as he bowed his head in shame, like they were taunting him, reminding him. He only wanted to cut it, but his father had yelled and yelled and yelled and Zuko was too scared to argue back. He'd argued back plenty in the past, and only gotten hurt. Out of spite, Ozai let Azula cut her own hair, because Azula was the perfect princess, and Zuko wasn't. 

He wasn't even supposed to be in his room for so long. He was sent here to put on the make up his mother had brought him as his last birthday gift. She'd gotten yelled at for giving him one, until Ozai realised he could use it to control. Zuko wouldn't mind make up if it wasn't forced. If it wasn't somebody forcing him to be the perfect princess he was lucky to be.

_Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born._

Zuko took another deep breath, throat catching on a sob. He tried to reign it in, standing to look in the mirror at the reflection staring back at him. It was his, but he didn't feel connected to it. It didn't feel like him. It was like looking at a stranger, and whilst it wasn't painful- it was just his face- it felt so devoid of memories, just like the paintings of him. An obedient princess, going through a phase.

A knock at the door made Zuko tense and freeze, scrambling to wipe away his tears and look around his room as though he'd been caught doing something wrong, as though he had something shameful to hide. 

"...Prince Zuko?"

Zuko couldn't hold back his tears this time. That was his name. His name, said aloud. His name, said by somebody else, and not just Zuko whispering it again and again in the dark. "Uncle… what- what's wrong with me? Why can't I- I just- be like Azula?!"

"Because," Iroh began softly, moving to sit beside him and putting his arm around him, "you are not Azula. You are Prince Zuko. And there is nothing wrong with you."

"You're lying!" Zuko snapped, jerking away from his grasp. "You're lying! Dad said I'm a freak! I- it's okay, I- I'll… snap out of it... 's just a phase…" The lie set heavy in Zuko's heart. The lie he'd been told, the lie he'd told himself countless times to make it go away. It only made the pain worse, but he wanted to be safe, and loved, and accepted. He wanted his father to love him, because maybe if his father loved him, he wouldn't hurt him so much.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Prince Zuko," Uncle Iroh repeated, "there's something wrong with your father."

"WELL THAT DOESN'T HELP IT TO STOP HURTING SO MUCH, DOES IT?!" Shame flooded Zuko at his outburst, burying his face in his knees and fighting back more sobs.

"No," Iroh replied, "it doesn't. But I hope one day it can bring you peace-"

"Just leave me alone," Zuko hissed, voice wobbling with anger and pain. His uncle left, just as Zuko had requested, but he wished he'd stayed. He wished his uncle was still here to keep telling him that it was okay, but he wasn't. Because Zuko drove him away.

The last memory Zuko had of home was his father standing over him, palm full of fire whilst Zuko begged for his forgiveness.

○●○

Getting older didn't make it go away. The only small blessing aboard the ship was that Uncle Iroh had introduced Zuko as the Prince, and the men hadn't questioned it.

At least, not publicly. 

Behind closed doors, Zuko knew they talked about him. His body was changing, and it wasn't a matter of his voice deepening. He kept his hair shaved part bald, too ashamed to grow it back. He kept it up in his ponytail, even when he slept, knowing how much worse it looked down. He couldn't hide the scar on his face, although on the cold nights where Zuko would cry and whimper at the way it ached, he wished he could cover it up. 

He should be happy. He was a Prince here, Prince Zuko, no deadname in sight. But it wasn't the same as acceptance, and he knew that they'd figured it out, and he knew that they only kept it to themselves because they were scared of Uncle Iroh.

Zuko did whatever he could to keep his chest flat, but when the cramps started settling in his lower abdomen, he resigned himself to curling up pathetically and crying. When he had to train through it, he only hoped nobody noticed the blood, that the pain in his ribs would ease enough for him to breathe. He poured all of his pain and anger into every clumsy shot of fire he took. He yelled, because he couldn't allow himself to cry about it. He couldn't catch a break away from the men on his ship- the men who couldn't understand Zuko's own masculinity, the men who whispered behind his back but respected him to his face. 

Zuko told himself he didn't owe them anything. 

"A man needs his rest, Prince Zuko. It's getting late-"

"I'm not good enough. I can't rest until I am, and I can't rest until I capture the Avatar!"

"You look unwell, Zuko. You've gone pale-"

"SO?! I don't take breaks, Uncle, because I'm not lazy like you!" Zuko stormed off, blasting fire every time the urge to cry threatened to overwhelm him. He felt guilty, but he didn't let it eat at him. He hid away again, shaking, alone. He was on a ship full of men- men who weren't like him. And he was bleeding, and in pain, and he felt sick, but he couldn't tell any of them that. 

He was grateful almost, for the time he got to cut off his hair, grow it from scratch. Nobody in Ba Sing Se questioned him, nobody stared, or said anything, apart from one girl who liked him and one boy who was more bothered by the fact Zuko was fire nation than he was that Zuko was different. Every time Zuko looked in the mirror, saw his short hair, ran his hand over it, it felt like he was finally looking at himself, like the person staring back at him was really him. And nobody stared at him like they did in the Fire Nation.

Why did he have to go screw it all up?

And he was letting his father's words get to him again, because it was easier to tell himself that. Iroh had told him that his father's words- his lies- weren't worth his life. Zuko ignored him, and let the pain go straight through his heart, where it hurt the most.

○●○

Acceptance from his father was crawling beneath his skin, because he knew that it wasn't real. But Zuko so desperately wanted his father to accept him that he turned a blind eye to the way Ozai used it to manipulate him. He turned a blind eye to the way his name was a privilege he got when he did good, a privilege he got revoked when he was less than perfect. It wasn't the acceptance that his uncle gave him so unconditionally. 

At the beach, he was so consumed with anger and pain. Old photographs hurt worse, because that wasn't him but it was and he hated recognising his own pain in his eyes. He burned it all to ashes. Azula's friends called him Zuko, and he let them. Mai loved him, so Zuko let her, even though he couldn't like her back. At least somebody loved him. And he was too scared of being unloved to have the heart to tell her that he didn't like her back.

_You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be._

Zuko closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. No, the journey wasn't pleasant. But he was gaining hope that he could come out the other side of it. Even if he'd betrayed the only person who supported him though it all. Even if he'd pushed his uncle away in his pain and anger. Even if he'd hidden behind a mask and done wrong. Maybe one day, he'd feel like the Prince he was.

And now he'd redirected lightning at his father, seen for the first time in his life that he could fight back: that he didn't have to take all the pain straight to his heart. He finally saw the strength his father had convinced him couldn't exist inside of him. And now he'd barely been accepted by the Avatar and his friends. They still used his name, but Zuko's skin crawled with a lifetime of performative support, with fear, with the need to run and hide. 

Training was hard with his bindings, with the cramps, with the summer heat. He'd even stupidly gone to a prison, met with the dragons, and… caught feelings for a boy. What was he supposed to do now? People like Zuko didn't get to love, because nobody would love somebody like him.

So he sparred, trying to ignore the way his heart clenched every time the boy smiled at him. By the afternoon, they were both panting, Zuko dizzied and trying to disguise his shallow breaths. Sokka moved to remove his own shirt, and Zuko pushed down his own jealousy and attraction for a moment until he noticed Sokka's bindings. Zuko stared, unable to stop the way his expression softened into a gentle smile. He wasn't alone. He wasn't the only one. 

He removed his own shirt, revealing his own bindings, looking up despite his insecurities with hope. "I've never met anybody like me," Zuko admitted aloud, pushing down the nauseating nerves telling him to hide. 

"Well, now you have," Sokka replied, sitting down and patting the ground next to him. "I had Bato growing up. He's like us too."

"I… wasn't accepted," Zuko admitted quietly, sitting besides the other boy, "only Uncle accepted me." 

Sokka closed his eyes like he was pained, taking a shaky breath. "There's something wrong with everyone," he replied firmly, "there's something wrong with the Fire Nation, not you. You're- there's nothing wrong with you, Zuko. Or me, or Bato, or any of us. There's something wrong with the people who can't just accept us, who- who can't just- just let us exist!"

"Uncle always told me there was nothing wrong with me," Zuko replied quietly, looking down.

"It's true," Sokka replied, grasping Zuko's shoulder strongly, "there's nothing wrong with you." Zuko felt the emotions welling up, but before he could cry, Sokka pulled him into a strong hug. And Zuko cried, and grieved, but this time he wasn't grieving that he couldn't be normal- because he was normal- he was grieving the fact he'd let the harsh words get to him; he grieved over the years he'd believed the lies, and he hoped, because for the first time in a long time, he felt free. He felt like _himself_.

He resumed sparring with Sokka, even after the war, discovered beautiful fire within himself, rainbow fire like the dragons had, and he moved gracefully through the different forms he'd learned. He stopped being ashamed of the colours within, and now he displayed them proudly. He grew closer with Sokka, until it crossed the boundary between friendship and romance, until he was finally loved and accepted as a whole person- not in spite of his difference, but with his difference as an intrinsic part of him and his identity. Sokka understood him so deeply, and Zuko understood him too. And they fell in love, and Zuko finally- _finally_ accepted that there was nothing wrong with him. 

He found peace, smiled when he fell in love, smiled when he reflected on his trans identity, and smiled when he displayed his rainbow fire for the masses; as he expressed himself through beautiful rainbow colours and graceful forms. 

He never let the shame beat him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so in this, Zuko and Sokka both train with their binders on. So I'm here to tell you to please not do that without the all-clear from your doctor. As a general rule, anything more than light exercise with a binder isn't advised. Please wear a sports bra instead if you can. Also please do not sleep in your binder and remember to take binder breaks when you can


End file.
